


Hollow Bones

by Cân Cennau (cancennau)



Category: Rosemary and Thyme
Genre: Cannibalism, Case Fic, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-07 10:44:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8797747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cancennau/pseuds/C%C3%A2n%20Cennau
Summary: A routine job in the Welsh countryside gives Rosemary and Laura an experience they won't forget.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [merryghoul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryghoul/gifts).



The Rover rattled along the rough dirt path, loud and big and far too old to be driving down such a road and yet Rosemary handled the truck like she did this every single day.

“I haven’t seen a turn-off for miles.” Rosemary shouted across the thundering sounds of the Rover. “Where is this place, anyway?”

“It’s a big manor, just outside a village called… er…” Laura squinted at the map. “Something Welsh and unpronounceable.”

“Give it a go - Welsh isn’t that hard!” Rosemary laughed.

“Brinblade… Bruhnbleed… Brynblaidd? That sounded passable, didn’t it?”

Rosemary couldn’t hide her snickers fast enough.

* * *

 

“What do you mean, we can’t work in the garden? We’re  _ gardeners! _ ”

The manor house was resplendent, but the garden was covered from head to toe in forensic tape and police. 

“I’m sorry.” James, master of the house, looked just as frustrated. “Someone broke into our family crypt last night - the police won’t let anyone touch the place. They’ll be done by tomorrow though.”

“It’s just a frustrating situation.” Laura rubbed her temples. “Is there anything we can do to help?” 

“Not unless you’re private investigators.” James laughed, but then looked at them properly. “You’re not private investigators, are you?”

* * *

 

“Crypts creep me out.” Laura shuddered, as they trekked the next day through the crumbling crypt. “They’re  _ creepy  _ and  _ old-fashioned _ . Why not just bury your dead  _ properly? _ ”

“Must be a rich person thing.” Rosemary picked up a broken bone and inspected it. “Bones aren’t supposed to be hollow, are they?”

“Not unless you’re a bird.”

“This bird would have to be massive to have a femur this size.” 

Laura looked over her shoulder, peering at the bone. “Huh… Odd.” She paused. ”Also, that’s not a femur - it’s a humerus.”

“There’s nothing humorous about this situation, I can tell you that.”

* * *

 

“Did you find anything?” James asked over dinner that evening.

“Hollow bones.” Laura replied. “And lots of them.”

“Though not many intact bodies, for a crypt.” Rosemary added. “I thought there would be more.”

“It was the fresh bodies that were stolen.” 

“Bodies?” Laura chewed on a bite of casserole. “Why steal bodies?”

“Perhaps it’s a cult thing.” Rosemary took a bite of her own meal, and paused. “This is very funny veal.”

“In what way?”

“It tastes… off.”

“Hmm.” James frowned. “Maybe you should have a word with Martin, our cook. He can tell you how he made it.”

* * *

 

“I cook it like I cook everything.” Martin was a gruff man, very Welsh and very thin. “Fry it. Boil it. Roast it on Sundays. Why, you got a problem with it?”

“It just tastes like no other veal I’ve tasted.” Rosemary replied. 

“That’s because you’re used to English meat.” Martin snorted. “Welsh is far better.”

“So it’s local?”

“I get it from Evan, over in Brynblaidd. Doesn’t cost me much either.” A timer went off somewhere in the depths of the kitchen, and Martin looked behind him.

“Mind if I get back to work?”

“Don’t let us keep you.”

* * *

 

“Rosemary, you can’t go running off to the village to find a butcher.” Laura sighed. “The police have left the garden, we have  _ work. _ ”

“Aren’t you curious as to where the meat originated?” Rosemary dumped a pile of gardening tools in the wheelbarrow.

“Not particularly. All I know is that it makes a good casserole, and the sooner I get to work the sooner I can get back to eating it.”

Rosemary shook her head. “Where have the police gone, anyway? Interviews?”

“‘Testing’, apparently.” Laura examined a trowel. “Whatever that means. The officer I asked wouldn’t tell me anything else.”

* * *

 

Two days later, the dining hall shut, and Laura didn’t get her casserole. After the second day of take away, Rosemary and Laura found themselves in the kitchen, facing a young man who was most definitely not Martin.

“Who are you?” Laura asked, almost immediately.

“Idris.” The boy replied. “I’m the new cook. The other one left.”

“Left? Why?”

The boy shuffled his feet. “Uh, I’m not sure I should say…”

“Oh, come now.” Laura huffed. “We’ve seen enough bodies to have a strong stomach. Why did Martin leave?”

“Well… the food tested positive.”

“For what? E coli?”

“For human.”

* * *

 

“We ate  _ human _ .” Rosemary stared up at the bedroom ceiling unseeingly.

“I know.” Laura replied, lying beside he.

“But we ate  _ human! _ ”

“Can we not talk about it?!”

“How can we  _ not _ talk about it?!”

“Talking about it puts me off eating  _ forever. _ ”

“Just  _ being  _ here puts me off eating forever.”  Rosemary turned, pillowing her head on Laura’s shoulder. “Can we just… get out of here? Forget the contract.” 

“I wish we could.” Laura sighed. “But the Rover needs to be serviced, and petrol doesn’t come cheap.”

“Drat. Can we at least eat out tonight?”

Laura smiled, briefly. “Of course.”

* * *

 

“Rosemary,  _ honestly.”  _ Laura gave her partner a no-nonsense glare across the table. “Will you stop  _ picking  _ at your food and just  _ eat _ it?”

“I can’t stop thinking about it.” Rosemary replied sharply. “What if my cauliflower is actually  _ brain? _ ”

“Your cauliflower is certainly not brain.” Laura snorted, stabbing viciously at her steak.

“And how do you know?”

“Brain’s all water, isn’t it?” She bit, chewed, and swallowed her mouthful. “If you’d gotten something so watery, I would’ve made you send it back for a proper meal.”

Rosemary gave a startled laugh, but thankfully she began to properly eat her food.

* * *

 

Martin was never found. The police closed the case, the garden was transformed, and time marched ever onward.

“It’s ridiculous.” Laura said, looking out over the field of roses and gardenias. “Absolutely ridiculous.”

“I know.” Rosemary rubbed her face. “This was horrific, and yet.”

“It’s like they don’t want to do  _ anything  _ to find Martin. They don’t  _ care. _ ”

Rosemary took her hand, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Come on,” she said, quietly. “Let's go get the Rover serviced, and then we can get out of here.”

Laura sighed, but nodded, and hand in hand they left the garden.


End file.
